Fate Is A Funny Thing
by DeathWallflower
Summary: Can two people find happiness together, even when the rest of their life is falling apart? Set four years after the Capping Ceremony. Kikyo Motoki and Keita Kamogari.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Itazura Na Kiss. I also don't own Dumbo.**

**AN:** **This story will be told from different POV's.**

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><p><strong>Motoko<strong>

The hospital with its hygienic smell was quiet today. It was mostly because it was Sunday, and a lot of the elderly patients were either asleep or amusing themselves or in the hospital church. Accident and emergency was very quiet as well, for some unknown reason.

I was sitting in the lounge, which was reserved for the hospital staff. It was midday, and I was snacking away at my tuna and cheese Panini. The dryness of the flaky tuna and the smooth stretchy melted cheese complimented each other as I swirled the refreshment around my tongue, my saliva softening and decapitating the mouthful I had just bitten off. I shifted in my seat feeling uncomfortable, partly because the leather couch I was slumped in had a tendency to drag my uniform in awkward directions. It was also partly to do with the incredible boyish scrubs I was wearing.

I remembered my first day here. I had turned up at work, dressed in the traditional woman's uniform, just like when I had gone through my nursing ritual four years ago. I remember the feeling of the material that I craved so much. The silk of the pink fabric as it fell down my skin and puffed out gracefully when it reached my waist; I remember putting the fresh, crisp new apron over the dress, a sense of pride swelling in my chest. I've always wanted to be a girl, so desperately I demanded the approval of my family, until they finally accepted my inner desire. I knew that the outside world wouldn't be so easy to persuade, but with my family's acceptance; I knew I could survive. Anyway, when I had worn the beautiful dress to work that first day; the chief nurse had all but screamed at me, threatening to fire me if I didn't wear the male scrubs to work the next day. I decided that I didn't want to push my luck, so therefore I had been wearing these blue top and trousers for four years. I sighed morosely. Life doesn't always go the way you want, I thought.

I popped the last part of the Panini into my mouth, savouring the last bite. Suddenly a blur rushed past the entrance of the lounge and I chuckled, recognising that the blur was a girl, a girl with ginger hair. Kotoko was rushing about as usual. Even on our most peaceful day, she was still frantically unorganized. But then again, maybe I would be like that if I had to care for that awful old bat that demanded Kotoko around. I was so glad that Kotoko had got stuck with her instead of me.

Pulling myself up off the stupid couch and began to walk towards the empty door frame, when Irie Naoki strode in. He saw me, nodded and passed me.

"Oh my, how rude, all I get from the famous Naoki is a measly nod," I threw a hand across my forehead dramatically. Irie smiled slightly.

"Sorry, Kikyou, but I'm busy at the moment," Irie replied bluntly, brushing me off, and continued walking. I had known him long enough though, to be anesthetized to his cold words. I mean, he even treats his wife like that, although it seems as if she can hear a hidden meaning behind his words; which I noticed when observing them together. Irie sat down onto the couch and picked up the newspaper from the coffee table and started to read it. I stared incredulously.

"Busy?" I questioned sarcastically. He looked up from the paper, as if he had only just registered that another person was in the room.

"Yes, I'm busy relaxing," he replied, his expression remaining serious. I just shook my head and stalked out of the room. I decided to wander down to my most critical patient's room. As I walked through the labyrinth of corridors, I took in the architecture and decor of the hospital, which I hadn't done in a long time. I often found myself rushing around the hallways without paying much notice to the design of the hospital. The bitter smell of ammonia attacked my nostrils with its sharp odour, from the freshly cleaned floor. Which were white linoleum tiles, speckled with black dots, as if someone had walked around the hospital sprinkling black peppercorn everywhere. The walls were a variety of colours throughout the whole clinical sanctuary, but in the particular section I was travelling past, the walls were a pasty white as if to signify innocence. They weren't faded or blemished at all as they had been recently painted by a few, young attractive painters, who had been called in a couple of weeks ago.

I reached my patient's room, and peered through the entrance. The patient was propped up against pillows which had been raised for comfort purposes. She was playing with a neat, brown teddy bear and a withered, worn out rag doll, which seemed to be falling apart as some stuffing was hanging out of its leg. I stepped in slowly, so as not to startle her. She slowly raised her head, to see who had dared interrupt her private game. Then she clocked onto who I was.

"Motoko!" She yelled weakly, smiling. But, then she threw down her forgotten toys and clasped her hands to her head. Her eyes squinted, pulling her eyebrows into a look of agony. Her mouth was set in a line; a consequence of gritting her teeth. Her whole face was screwed up at the internal pain she was experiencing, which I could only guess at. I dashed to the medical machinery, next to her bed and pumped more morphine into her fragile body. After a few minutes, she released her grip from her head and let her arms fall back onto the duvet either side of her. She looked at me with weary eyes. They showed the exhaustion she felt inside. Her skin was sallow, almost translucent and the faded black bags under her pupils were evidence of the many sleepless nights. Seeing her like this broke my heart, she really didn't deserve this.

"Silly Georgia, you shouldn't move or shout too much."

"Sorry Motoko, I was just happy to see you," she said miserably. I smiled sadly at her, perching on the side of her bed; I went to say something to make her feel better, but she got in there before me.

"Do you like my new bandana?" The seven year old whispered eagerly. I faked a smile, as I realised that she only whispered, as she was unable to raise her voice any higher. I raised my eyes to look at her head. A blue bandana, printed with pink elephants', covered her almost hairless head. She was looking at me expectantly.

"It's lovely! I wish I had one," I faked enthusiasm.

"It's the pink elephants from Dumbo, did you know?" She asked in a proud voice. I confirmed that I did. I asked how she was feeling today.

"The same as yesterday," she answered somberly. I nodded and stood, picking up the clipboard from the bedside table. I looked at the chart clipped to the blue, plastic board. As I scanned it over, I recognised no major difference to her leukaemia; she was no worse, but she wasn't getting any better either. I placed the document back down, and turned back to Georgia. I saw she had quickly fallen asleep and decided to let her be. Before leaving, I wiped some dribble away, which had travelled down her chin.

I turned to leave the room and saw Keita at the door; my heart skipped a beat, mainly due to shock, but also due to something else unknown. I walked over to him, and saw he was frowning, concern apparent in his eyes.

"How is she?"

"No change," I replied, grimacing. He shut his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He then dropped his arm and I noticed he had clenched his fist. Letting out an angry groan, he all but ran off. I called after him, but then decided he needed time to himself.

I trailed off to the lockers to get ready to go home, as my shift was nearing its end.


End file.
